


The Game

by KiariKyoKiba



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: A Spell Gone Wrong, And some might just be in even worse situations, I have no idea whose side anyone is one any more, Jaime Lannister and Klaus being friends, Klaus being Klaus, Normal Westeros Plots, People will still die, Some might be saved, Things will probably still not work out for the Starks, With Klaus added in, and more characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:51:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7426396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiariKyoKiba/pseuds/KiariKyoKiba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the news of the Death of the Hand of the King reaches Westeros a certain Hybrid arrives in King’s Landing and Ser Jaime Lannister’s day goes from bad to a little worse.</p>
<p>A.K.A the one where Klaus ends up In Westeros due to a spell going wrong and things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game

**Author's Note:**

> So this just came to me and I had to write it. I don't know if I'll be adding anything else or so... but hey, I might. Actually, I probably will. Feel free to tell me what you think.  
> Also, yeah, I couldn't come up with another name that was better... So until then, that it is.

Light blond hair turns almost platinum in the light cast down by the sun as green eyes stare pensively out into the distance. Jon Arryn, was dead. The news alone, in the moons that had came before this one, was a cause for celebration. It still was but at the same time it wasn’t. 

Jon Arryn had been the Hand of the King for over sixteen years now, he had served the King loyally since he had been appointed and now, as the messenger birds flew with news of his Death, it had led to his end. The blond doesn’t want to say exactly that he had wished the male dead but neither had he particularly held any care for his life. 

Having repeatedly been the subject of suspicious wary glares from the curious male in question had nothing to do with it. He was used to them, had been subjected to the stares since the war had ended and the people questioned the King’s decision to keep him as a member of the King’s Guard. The male himself had questioned it but had come to the conclusion that it had been motivated by petty dislike and anger at his Father.

Or at least he had questioned the choice until his sister had been wed and became Queen. After that he hadn’t paid it much mind, instead he had thrown the thoughts aside and focused on the far more important matters that plagued his mind. 

It was the same method he was employing now.

Jon Arryn was dead and while it was about time it had happened and the male wasn’t going to complain about it, his death wasn’t simple. It appeared so at first, and the male had thought that prior to seeing the male himself, until he had thought more about it. 

Arryn, for all his age might have said otherwise, was not weak or sickly and prone to common ills. That unpleasantness was reserved for his boy of six namedays and third wife. Unlike them, even as a child the blond had heard, the male had not succumbed to any severe ailments. Rather he had been an unusually healthy child and managed to avoid the more serious and fatal of fevers and illnesses. 

And it is that thought and knowledge that leads him to a more pressing matter. Jon Arryn, he believed, was poisoned. Why, he wasn’t exactly sure but the motivation could be anything in truth the male had always found a way to insert himself into otherwise unnecessary situations he would have been better avoiding. The other questions, apart from the who, that arose was why now? Why did the Hand of the King need to die now. Surely, if it had been anything else, the best time to have killed the male would have been right after the War when everyone had been too busy trying to get back what they had lost and return to normal that they wouldn’t have paid one more death any mind.

To him, an experienced Knight, it made no sense. Mayhaps, if her were to ask, his Imp brother would be able to shed light on an otherwise odd occurrence of possibly Politicly motivated murder. He’d never been one for the constant manipulations of the Court, he’d always preferred the simplicity of fighting over that and left it to the other members of his Family to do as they wished.

His life, he supposed, after the War was fairly simple compared to the lives of others. Mostly he was stationed in King’s Landing, the King preferring his Court and Castle, - even if he hated it with an unrelenting not that hidden passion, - over the outside world. “He prefers to hide from the outside,” his sister had snarled once when he had dared to mention her husband, “stays caught in an endless spiral of woman, sex and drink.” Her laugh and been bitter and he’d wanted to erase it from his mind.

He hadn’t been able to.

The blond hadn’t been to his childhood home of Lannister Rock in years now. Between the fearsome man he called Father having wordlessly temporary banished him as long as he remained one of the King’s Guard and neither of his siblings having any wish to visit he hadn’t seen the Castle in a very long time. He hadn’t had the chance to dive off the cliff as he had done as a boy. In some ways it didn’t matter that the Queen hadn’t wanted to return, - not even she would be able to change the mind of her husband. A husband who had made it very clear he had no intention of letting his Goodbrother anywhere near his Father when not under the surprisingly clear and watchful eyes of the King himself.

Not that it would have stopped the Blond if he had wanted to go there. 

“I thought I would find you here.” The words are spoken by a male and the blond doesn’t need to turn to know what he will find. Dirty blond hair, strong features and steely blue eyes that would, in this moment, hold far more intelligence and cunning in them than they should possibly be able to. Not even Littlefinger and Varys for all they attempted to managed to completely hide the complete cunning and ruthlessness that their eyes held as this male did without any thought. “Ser Jaime.” 

The words are a purr against his senses and the Ser in question shivers in response at the amused tone used by the other male. The Lannister had never gotten used to that tone, no matter how many times he had heard it. The male coming to stand by his side did not have an accent as easily placed as the others around them, his voice was an odd mixture of syllables and notes that Jaime had never heard before from anyone else but the male standing by his side. Other Knights and Lords, even Eddard Stark, if Jaime remembered correctly, had noted it as well. 

Although Stark had also commented that it wasn’t completely different from those that lived within Westeros like the accents of those who lived in Essos. It was simply different and exotic in a way that many woman over the years had taken note of. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you,” the male replies with a shrug his shoulders. That wasn’t what he meant and the other male knows that. The Lannister isn’t asking what he’s doing in the Garden with Jaime, he was asking why he was in King’s Landing. The male had made it clear several times that he didn’t care much for the King or the throne he sat upon, - something Jaime didn’t quite believe since he had seen the male’s eyes float several times towards the throne with a glint within them when they were discussing who would be the next King.

Not that it had been much of a discussion since most had all too readily agreed to allow Robert Barathoen the Honour of the position. Jaime still didn’t know if the King had noticed how little effort it had taken to persuade the others that Robert was best suited for the job in the wake of the War that had torn apart most of what they had known their entire lives.

He’s about to send the male a glare when he takes note of something and his mind goes blank in response to what he is seeing. His eyes, he believes, must be lying because what they see cannot be true. It isn’t possible.

The face that stares at him, the face that he was planning on glaring at, the face with an arched eyebrow and questioning gaze... it hasn’t changed. It has been fifteen years since they have last seen each other but Jaime remembers what they male looked like back then like it was only a day before. Part of that is because his mind remembers what happened, the memory burned etched into his mind but the other part... that part is because the face starting at him has not aged.

“What?” The male asks, his voice calm and not ruffled at the least and being stared at for several minutes on end in silent. 

“Your face...” Jaime trails off stunned, “it hasn’t changed. You haven’t aged, Klaus.” His hands twitch with the urge to touch the males face, to see if what he is seeing is reality and not his dreams. 

Klaus’s eyes lit up in understanding as he gives a nod of his head. He makes a sound of understanding at the back of his throat and Jaime can’t stop himself from flinching at the noise that shouldn’t have possibly be made from a Human. It was a low sound and far more like what he imagined Wolves sounded like than a Human. Klaus gives a roll of his shoulders. 

“I moisturise,” is his response and when Jaime stares blankly at him for a few seconds he frowns. “Too early?” The silence from the Lannister is answer enough to his question and so he responds once more. “Too early. I look after my skin.” This time Jaime understands what the male is saying but it makes as little sense as the word he had used before.

Cersei, his sister, had been using all she could for years to retain her youthful looks to little avail. Klaus, it seemed, had somehow managed what his sister could not. Impressive, Jaime thought, for a male with not that much wealth to his name and wasn’t a member of one of the great Houses. 

“Jon Arryn is dead.” He informs him. It was possible Klaus already knew but Jaime wasn’t taking any chances, the other had to know of this. 

“I know,” Klaus replies, “I heard the servants talking.”

“I think he was poisoned.”

“Lovely,” Klaus drawls in turn with a roll of his eyes. “Back to the basics.” Jaime glances away from the male, he was used to these odd comments now. He’d had to sit through them for moons before Aerys’s had died. “So who shall be the next Hand?”

He’d been talking to Cersei this morning about that and while she had been taken to the idea of him as the the Hand, Jaime wasn’t as positive Robert would agree to it. “There are a few possible people likely to try to become the Hand.” He says try because they both know their is no contest.

“Stark?”

“Stark.” 

“This,” Klaus says as his lips curled and his bared teeth became visible, “is going to be fun.”

Jaime barely resists from asking what exactly the other questions as fun because to him? This isn’t fun, not at all. This entire situation is anything but fun.


End file.
